


When Love Is Not Enough

by Stray_Lilly



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Blood and Gore, Dealing With Divorce, Feelings of Abandonment, Grief, Guilt, Heavy Angst, Knives, Low Self Esteem, M/M, Mental Illness, Moving On, Murder, Obsession, Open Ending, Rage, Smut, Stalking, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide, Suspense/Psychological Thriller, Unhealthy Relationships, anal and oral sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:14:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28202949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stray_Lilly/pseuds/Stray_Lilly
Summary: Felix couldn't understand why Chan had abandoned him. He finds solace from his troubling thoughts by giving in to a distraction in the form of Hyunjin. Until Hyunjin begins to torment him too.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Felix, Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix
Comments: 13
Kudos: 59





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags before continuing 💕
> 
> For those who want more details on the mental illness tag I suggest checking the end notes for more information 💗

Felix lived in a house on the outskirts of town, away from the bustling city, away from the noise, away from people. Chan valued privacy – or at least he used to. Now Chan lived inside the city limits, in a nice house with a white picket fence, in a well-populated neighbourhood. 

Felix had been left in this house all alone. Left. Abandoned. Discarded.

He tried not to think of it – his loneliness. But the heavy silence that blanketed the house made it difficult to ignore. He could turn up the volume on the TV, or blast his music as loud as he wanted to, but the lack of conversation, the cold void left by Chan couldn’t be filled.

Felix knew it was bad for his back, but he preferred sleeping on the couch now. It was better than stretching an arm over the empty space on his bed and wishing he’d find Chan’s warmth. He missed hearing the soft thrum of Chan’s heart when he laid his head over his chest, and the little gasps that left his lips as Felix’s fingers and tongue traced patterns on his chest. He missed Chan.

All Felix had left of Chan was the wedding band Chan had placed on his finger when they’d married in Australia four years ago, and an old t-shirt that Chan had left in the hamper before he left; Felix wore both – he never removed the wedding band even after the divorce, and Chan’s t-shirt… The fabric had smelled like him – expensive cologne and that special Chan scent that Felix used to inhale every time he buried his face in Chan’s neck. So Felix had worn it every night until it only smelled like sweat and nothing of Chan remained in it. Still, it was there on his dresser, unwashed and waiting for Felix to take it into his arms as he pined for Chan again.

Felix should have been able to move on. He should have been able to eat with tasting cardboard. He should have been able to smile, to laugh, to go out with Seungmin and Jisung for a drink or two. He should have been able to function, but he couldn’t. It was as if when Chan left, he’d taken an integral part of Felix with him – the part that made laughter and love and life possible. 

He’d begged Chan not to leave him. He’d fallen to his knees and pleaded, had cried until he’d run out of tears. Chan had left him like that – on his knees on the living room floor. “This just doesn’t work anymore, Lix,” Chan had said, giving him one final look before stepping outside, the door closing with a click behind him. 

For a long time Felix had wondered why Chan thought it wasn’t working out. In Felix’s eyes, everything had seemed perfect. They had still been a two piece puzzle that fit perfectly together. They laughed with each other, went on dates, made love every night, and cherished each other the way they vowed that they always would.

So Felix had wondered what caused the sudden change, the impulsive decision to leave. And then he saw the reason with his own eyes.

Felix had caused quite a scene at the supermarket when he saw them together. Chan had been holding a shopping basket, and Minho had been smiling up at him, his fingers combing through Chan’s dark hair as they openly flirted with each other. 

Felix failed to keep a leash on his anger. And who could blame him? He’d shoved Minho back with so much force that the redhead had crashed into a shelf. Felix had lunged for him then, and he would’ve done more damage if Chan hadn’t held him back. 

“Stop it, Felix,” Chan had said firmly, his words edged with exasperation as if Felix went around causing chaos at supermarkets all the time. “Just stop. What the hell is wrong with you?”

And then Chan proceeded to take care of  _ Minho _ .

Felix had been seething. He’d responded by hurling objects off the shelves, yelling at Chan about how betrayed he’d felt. And he had felt betrayed. Betrayed and hurt. “Is  _ he _ the reason?” Felix had demanded. “Is he the reason you left me?”

“Felix, you’re jumping to conclusions and overreacting.”

That had sent Felix spiralling. He fell to his knees, throwing his head back and screaming until his screams dissolved into sobs. For a while after that, Felix would remain holed up inside the house, ashamed of what people around town would think of him.

He’d heard the whispers as Chan had apologised to the supermarket manager, compensating for the damages with a large sum of money _. A nervous breakdown _ , they all said.

Chan had taken him home that day, after making sure that Minho was alright. Felix hated Minho. Even Chan didn’t want to admit it, he knew that Minho was the cause of their failed marriage. 

Chan refused to jump out of the car. As if he was afraid that if he stepped inside, he wouldn’t want to leave again. Felix couldn’t understand why he didn’t just give in to that fear. “Come back home,” he urged. Because he was ready to welcome Chan with open arms. “Just come back, Channie. You know you want to. So why are you fighting it?”

Chan had only given him a withering look. “It’s over between us, Felix. It’s been over for a while. Go,” he’d jerked his head towards the house as if dismissing a pet.

Minho’s fault. This was Minho’s fault. 

Maybe it was Felix’s fault too. He could’ve prevented all this. Maybe he hadn’t doted enough on Chan. Maybe the sex hadn’t been good enough. Maybe he was too boring. Maybe he was too ugly. Maybe he just wasn’t good enough.

Maybe his love wasn’t enough.

Those thoughts ran through Felix’s mind like a record player, spinning around and around and around, the same tune on replay. 

So as much as Hyunjin scared Felix, Felix had been glad for the distraction he provided.

Felix always knew that all was not well with Hyunjin. The very first time they’d met, he saw the unhinged look in the man’s eyes, as if he wanted to lunge across the glass table and wrap his paint-covered hands around Felix’s neck.

Now that hateful, arrogant gaze had more than just a touch of burning anger in them. Hyunjin’s fingers were clenched into fists. His half buttoned shirt revealed a chest that heaved with unfettered rage. “What do you mean? Why can’t you accept this? I spent two months on this! Two fucking months!” He slammed a hand onto the table, the glass rattling. 

Felix inspected the table for any cracks before he grimaced at the painting on the easel, unable to look for too long at the utter grotesqueness of the image. “Hyunjin, this is… It’s really unacceptable, I really don’t mean to be so blunt but there’s no other way to put it – it’s ghastly.”

“Ghastly?” Hyunjin let out a disbelieving laugh and shot to his feet, his chair scraping against the tiles. The horrid screech drowned out the soft sounds of Vivaldi that Felix always had playing in his office. The artist strode over to his painting, running his fingers along the edge of the canvas as if placating a crying child. He looked over his shoulder, fixing Felix with a hard stare. “This is my best work. And you’re insulting it this way? You’re insulting  _ me _ this way?”

Felix kept his cool. He had enough experience to know how to deal with artists who held that kind of superiority complex. “Mr Xiang commissioned you to paint a stunning night view of the Han River.” It was supposed to be an anniversary gift for his son and daughter-in-law who had met at the river two years ago. He’d been an admirer of Hyunjin’s previous pieces and had insisted that the painting be done by him. “This is not what he asked for.” 

The painting that Hyunjin had revealed today, made Felix’s stomach turn. It depicted two men having sex on a river bank. The river had been painted with strokes of deep red, as if blood flowed through instead of water. A single hand protruded from the depths of blood, a gold ring visible on one finger – a wedding band, perhaps.

“Fuck you and fuck your client,” Hyunjin spat, throwing a cotton sheet over his precious painting. 

“As per the contract,” Felix went on, unbothered, “you can keep ten percent of the pre-payment. You have thirty days to either produce the painting that you were commissioned for, or return the rest of payment. Do you have any questions?”

Felix tensed when Hyunjin circled around the table, coming to a stop beside Felix. Security was just one shout away. Hyunjin braced a hand on the table, long blonde hair falling over his face as he leaned down so that his mouth was a hair’s breadth away from Felix’s ear. “You can take the money. All of it. But watch your back, Felix. Because I’ll be watching you.”

It was an elementary level threat but Felix shuddered all the same. And when he left his office, he made sure that a security guard accompanied him to his car.

Later that night, Felix would receive the first of many emails from Hyunjin that would end up taunting and tormenting him for months on end.

It was a filthy email that Felix read while he tried to coax himself to eat a bowl of cereal. He stared at his laptop screen in disgust. 

**I really want to kill you, Felix. But first I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to paint you with my cum, make you my canvas.**

Felix hurriedly closed the laptop, using the back of his sleeve to wipe the milk dribbling over his chin. “What the fuck?” 

He didn’t know why Hyunjin was taking it so badly. There was no way he thought that painting was what Mr Xiang had actually commissioned. It was laughable, really. 

He hesitated before taking another look at the email.  _ I’m going to fuck you… paint you with my cum… my canvas. _

That night, Felix dreamed of Hyunjin. He dreamed of being fucked by Hyunjin, of the artist’s sweat-dampened hair brushing over Felix’s face as he whispered, “My canvas,” and then proceeded to spurt his cum over Felix’s chest.

Felix woke up that morning with his underwear sticky, and his face burning with shame. What would Chan think of him?

Over time, the tone of Hyunjin’s emails began to grow darker and more detailed. And Felix really should have reported him – this was a crime, right? Harassment? But Felix never reported anything. Instead, he found himself eagerly awaiting the emails, and the dreams that followed.

**Going to cut your throat open while my cock is inside you. I’ll paint myself with your blood. It’ll be such a pretty picture.**

Felix dreamed of being stretched open by Hyunjin’s cock, of being fucked mercilessly, his face pressed into the pillows. When he was close, Hyunjin dug his fingers into Felix’s scalp, gripping a fistful of his hair and pulling him upright. He continued thrusting his hips, his cock grazing Felix’s prostate at a euphoria-inducing angle. And he placed his knife over Felix’s throat, “Ready to die?” Felix whimpered his assent before the knife slid across his throat.

He woke up clutching his throat, eyes wide as he frantically checked his hands for blood. Nothing. Just a dream.

He glanced at the gap between the curtains. It was still dark out. Something caught his eyes then. A shadow passing the living room window. And the crunch of grass. There was someone outside. 

Felix edged towards the curtain, his hand trembling as he touched the fabric. He’d completely avoided horror movies since Chan left, but wasn’t this a cliché scene from a horror movie? A scared person home alone hears a noise outside. They pull back the curtain and there’s a face pressed to the window – the stuff of nightmares. And here Felix was about to complete that cliché.

He hesitated and pulled his hand back. It was probably just the tree branches swaying in the wind, or a stray. 

But something darker crossed his mind then. What if it was Hyunjin? 

He shook his head. Tree or stray – not Hyunjin. He wasn’t going to feed his imagination anymore nonsense.

When Felix woke up a few hours later, warm sunlight streamed through the curtains. He stretched his arms and yawned. He didn’t remember falling asleep after his little scare last night. Tree or stray… He scoffed and pushed to his feet. He had to get to work soon.

Showered and dressed, Felix sat at the little breakfast nook in the kitchen, staring at the chalkboard propped up on the kitchen counter. Depending on who left for work first, Felix and Chan would leave messages on the board for each other. Sometimes just a simple, ‘I love you’, sometimes reminders to eat and stay hydrated, sometimes a song recommendation to listen to in the car. 

Felix crossed over to the chalkboard and searched the drawer for a piece of chalk – he found only a small, white stub. He scrawled on the board:  _ I miss you. _

Outside, the leaves of the cypress trees danced in the breeze, and he lifted his face to the sun. No matter how long he stood in the sun, he always felt cold. It was the kind of cold that seeped through his skin and into his bones. Into his soul.

He started towards his car but froze in place, a smattering of color catching his eye. There on the wall just beside the living room window. 

Someone had painted something. 

Felix drew closer, his chest constricting. Similar to the couple on the riverbank that Hyunjin had painted, the two figures on the wall were having sex. Chan and Minho. Felix knew it was them because the detail was immaculate – every facial feature painted to perfection. He cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowed at the strange shape above Minho’s head.

Oh.

A knife protruded from Minho’s skull. The mouth that Felix thought was opened in pleasure, was actually opened in pain. Felix spotted the trickle of blood marring Minho’s perfect face. Chan seemed unaware, his lips still wrapped around Minho’s dick, his eyes closed. 

Felix turned on his heel as if he expected Hyunjin to be waiting for him. Had he left after he painted this – this awful thing? Where was he?

He shook his head and retrieved a bucket and some soap, beginning to scrub down the wall. The sharp lines of the painting fused into a blur of color on the wall. It was fine. At least the crude image wasn’t visible anymore.

He wrapped his arms around himself, unable to shake the feeling that he was being watched. He retreated back into the house, locking the door behind him. 

He searched the kitchen drawer for a knife, leaving it on the table where it would be accessible if he needed it. If Hyunjin—

Felix stared at the chalkboard. His message from earlier had been erased, a new one left in its place:

_ But he doesn’t miss you _

It only took a quick search of the house – knife in hand – to determine that Hyunjin wasn’t there. But he’d been there. The words on the chalkboard were evidence enough of that, to Felix at least. He couldn’t call the police. They’d think he was crazy.

A few months passed, all in a similar fashion – with Felix huddled in the corner of the living room, clutching a knife, barely eating, barely sleeping. 

Hyunjin kept taunting him. Sometimes with an email, until Felix fixed that and his laptop and phone were both piles of glass, plastic and metal parts strewn across the floor. 

Sometimes Hyunjin would circle the house at night, the sound of overgrown grass crunching beneath his shoes. But the worst nights were those when Felix would hear footsteps dragging through the hallway. 

He didn’t know how Hyunjin was doing it. He had some way to get in and out of the house without Felix seeing. Felix had moved everything around trying to find it – some door that he and Chan hadn’t known about when they bought the house. But he just couldn’t find it. Hyunjin was smart. Too smart.

He needed someone just as smart on his side. 

The phone rang once, twice, thrice before, “Hello?”

Felix blinked in confusion, fingers anxiously raking through his hair. Why was Jisung answering Seungmin’s phone? “Uh, Ji, I wanted to talk to Seung—”

“Seungmin is dead.”

It took a few seconds for Felix to process. Seungmin. Dead. Can’t be right. “Jisung, why would you say that?”

“Because he’s fucking dead!” Jisung yelled. “And it’s your fault, Felix! All your fault!”

Felix began to whimper, shaking his head. “No – no, you can’t – it can’t be true.”

“He killed Seungmin.”

“Who?” Felix’s eyes grew wide. He knew the answer. He just needed to hear it. 

“That guy. The one with long hair and eyes like the devil.”

“Hyunjin…” Felix’s eyes darted around the living room as if saying his name would conjure him out of thin air.

“And he’s going to kill everyone you love. Unless…”

“Unless?” Felix straightened, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. “Jisung, what does he want?”

The line went dead. 

The air had filled with an intense yet familiar smell. Paint. 

Felix followed the smell to the kitchen. What he saw made him balk. Images of a dead Minho were painted across the kitchen walls. Minho with a knife in his chest. A headless Minho with his head lying at his feet. Minho with his torso cut open, intestines spilling. 

Felix backtracked, shaking his head. “I can’t do that. I won’t do any of that for you!” he yelled at Hyunjin. He knew the artist was somewhere around. The paint was still wet.

Warm breath ghosted Felix’s neck and he fell silent, frozen in place and hardly daring to breath. “Won’t do it?” the artist whispered. “Then will you be my canvas? Like your friend Seungmin. I cut him up so prettily. Or maybe I can do the same to Chan? Your precious Chan…”

Felix clenched his jaw. “I’ll do it.”

Felix wasn’t sure how he knew where Minho lived. He just knew. Like that information was programmed into his brain. He’d never been in this part of town before. It was a quiet residential neighbourhood and at this time of night there was no one around. 

He stood on the porch, staring at the keypad beside the door. He knew the code, somehow. How did he know?

The house was quiet, like it was waiting with bated breath for Felix to carry out his task. He made as little noise as possible as he walked down the hallway, checking each room he passed.

Minho was sound asleep in his bed. Felix began to tremble, his entire body shaking with fear. What was he doing? What was he doing? What was he doing?

Saving Chan.

It was worth it. Chan was definitely worth it. 

He hovered over Minho, taken aback when Minho’s eyes opened. The man blinked, adjusting to the dark before his gaze shifted to Felix and the knife hovering over him. His eyes widened and before he could scream, Felix plunged the knife into his chest. Again and again and again and again… Felix couldn’t stop. His arms moved mechanically plunging the knife in and out, blood spraying over his face. 

When his arms felt as weak as his knees, he slumped to the ground. Strong arms wrapped around him. “You did well,” Hyunjin told him. “So well. I couldn’t have done it better myself. Now, there’s just one more thing you have to do. For Chan, alright?”

Chan always told Felix that they would get through anything as long they still had love for each other. But what happens when you give all the love you have to give and it’s still not enough?

You give whatever is left. You give your life.

Felix let Hyunjin place the knife in his hand again, this time turned towards himself. Felix closed his eyes and slid the blade across his throat.

Maybe he would be enough for Chan now.


	2. Chapter 2

When Chan first met Felix, the young man had explained that their relationship wouldn’t be easy, that being with him wouldn’t be easy. Chan had been determined to make things work. As long as they still had love for each other, they would get through anything.

At first, Felix’s erratic behaviour had been a shock to the system. Sometimes he wouldn’t take Chan’s calls for days. He’d stay holed up in his apartment until Chan would call the building caretaker to open the door so he could check on Felix. Sometimes Chan would get a call from one of Felix’s neighbours, asking him to stop by. He’d find Felix’s apartment a mess, furniture broken, clothes cut up and strewn across the floors. Sometimes Felix would snap at strangers on the street, accusing them of staring at him. 

But Chan learned to take care of him. He learned that Felix’s behaviour escalated and convalesced depending on his dosage of medication. There were times when he seemed vacant, his body present but his mind in a daze. So Chan either had Felix, or the soulless shell of Felix. And that was okay. Because it was still Felix, still the man he loved.

They married a year after they’d met. Felix hadn’t been happy when Chan suggested a house away from the populated areas in town. He just hadn’t wanted to have to explain Felix’s behaviour to neighbours. It was better that way.

Their marriage was great. They’d been happy. Until Felix got worse. After two years of marriage, Chan couldn’t understand what had triggered the change. He couldn’t even pinpoint when exactly the change had happened.

Maybe it was the day that Felix barged into a meeting at Chan’s office. He’d started crying, saying that he didn’t want to be alone. It was one of many times Chan would later find Felix trying to get into his office. Sometimes it was because he felt lonely, sometimes he would demand sex.

Sometimes he accused Chan of having an affair at the office. And it was an accusation that soon turned into a fixation. Felix wouldn’t let Chan go out with his friends – with their friends. He wouldn’t even let Chan go to the supermarket alone. He would make Chan account for every minute spent away from home. He believed that everything Chan told him was a lie. He’d scream until his voice grew hoarse and then he’d break things that were important to Chan. Chan always found himself begging for forgiveness despite doing nothing wrong at all.

It became suffocating. And Chan had needed out. He’d needed to breathe again.

Chan’s body shuddered as a sob tore through his chest, leaving his lips as a pained howl. He sobbed into Jeongin’s chest, letting the man soothingly run his hands over Chan’s back. “It’s okay,” Jeongin whispered. “It’ll be okay.”

But nothing was okay. Nothing was going to be okay.

Chan felt drained – emotionally and physically. Attending two funerals over two consecutive days would do that to a person. He hadn’t been sure whether it was appropriate for him to show up at Minho’s funeral. He wasn’t sure he’d be welcomed there. But it seemed as though no one blamed Chan but himself. 

It was his fault. His fault alone.

Only a handful of people had attended Felix’s funeral – Chan, Jeongin, Jisung, Seungmin. The rest of the town hadn’t wanted anything to do with him. It was difficult to fathom how they all saw Felix as a monster, and yet it was also understandable. 

He’d done something horrific. Fifty two stab wounds to the chest, they’d said on the news. Felix had done that. Felix.

Chan could barely look at Minho in his coffin, knowing that beneath the crisp white shirt his chest was torn open. And it was Chan’s fault.

He didn’t know what gave Felix the idea that he was dating Minho. He’d only been chatting to Minho at the supermarket and Felix used that as the basis of his accusation. Minho had been his friend since childhood. Felix knew that. He knew there was nothing romantic between them yet he still insisted…

When Minho told Chan that Felix had been following him around, standing outside his home, watching him, Chan had convinced Minho not to get the police involved. “I’ll talk to him,” he told Minho. And he did call Felix immediately. He’d promised Chan that he’d stop. Why had Chan believed him? If he hadn’t stopped Minho from going to the police…

But even Chan wasn’t stupid enough to believe that a restraining order could have stopped Felix. What he did to Minho that night should be unforgivable and yet Chan just couldn’t hold Felix accountable. But most people wouldn’t understand that so he kept it to himself.

“I should’ve never left,” he said, flopping down onto the grass beside Felix’s fresh grave. “I just left him. Abandoned him. I knew he wasn’t… well. And I still left.”

Jeongin sat down beside him, “You did what was best for your health,” he reminded Chan. “And anyway, you didn’t know he would get this bad.” He took Chan’s hand into his own, placing a kiss onto his knuckles. 

Chan felt guilty that Jeongin was there. That his boyfriend was sitting beside his ex-husband’s grave. It took a year after the divorce for Chan to even consider dating again. And Jeongin had been so patient, even all those times when Chan had left in the middle of a date because he felt as though he was cheating on Felix. He never made Chan feel that it was wrong for him to miss Felix whenever he found Chan wiping away a stray tear or two. 

After giving so much of himself to Felix, after putting everything he had into caring for Felix it was nice being taken care of for a change. And that only deepened his inner turmoil. 

While Chan had been moving on, Felix had been alone. Chan had left him alone. Had he killed himself thinking that Chan hadn’t loved him? Had he felt alone and unloved in those last moments? Felix didn’t deserve that.

“I wish I knew it was escalating,” Chan shook his head. “I should have checked on him. God, I don’t even know how he spent his last days, his last few seconds. I don’t know anything.” 

Footsteps sounded behind them and Chan turned around to see a tall man with long blonde hair approaching with a single white rose. He gave Chan a hesitant look before placing the rose beside the other flowers that decorated the grave. He cleared his throat, “Are you… family?”

Chan nodded and coughed, clearing the phlegm from his throat. “I’m his ex-husband.” He furrowed his brow. “But I don’t recall ever seeing you around.”

The man gave him a small smile, “Hwang Hyunjin. An artist. Felix had a client who commissioned one of my paintings.”

“Ah…” Chan nodded. “Well, thank you for coming.”

Hyunjin lingered, looking as if he would say something more. Chan looked at him expectantly, surprised when Hyunjin handed him a business card. “Look, I can see you’re grieving. And I don’t want to add to that. I couldn’t help but overhear a bit of your conversation. When you do have time, please drop by my studio for a visit. There are a few things you should know.”

Hyunjin looked from Jeongin to Chan, opening the door wider and stepping aside. “I didn’t think you were coming.”

It had taken nearly three weeks for Chan to work up the nerve to show up at Hyunjin’s apartment. A part of him hadn’t wanted to know any more, but a larger part of him needed to know. 

“I wanted to apologise,” Hyunjin said, leading them further inside. “I feel like I could have…” he trailed off with a sigh as they entered an area where the floors were covered in plastic tarp, a series of unfinished paintings left on their easels. He turned to look at Chan. “Maybe if I warned someone, whatever happened could have been prevented.”

Chan narrowed his eyes. “How so?”

Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention and he realized there was a man sitting in front of an easel, making large strokes across the canvas. 

“Look at this,” Hyunjin slipped his phone out of his coat pocket, tapping a few buttons and pulling up a photograph of a painting.

Chan raised a brow. “Is this supposed to mean something?” It was a beautiful painting of the Han River. 

“Felix’s client, Mr Xiang commissioned me to paint this,” Hyunjin explained. “But when I showed Felix the finished piece he…” he grimaced. “He called it  _ ghastly _ .”

Chan stared at the photograph. “Ghastly? But this is beautiful.”

“Exactly,” Hyunjin shrugged. “It’s one of my best pieces. I didn’t understand why he refused to show it to Mr Xiang. Anyway, I contacted Mr Xiang myself and sold him the painting. I uh…” Hyunjin seemed hesitant to continue. Something like guilt and regret reflected in his gaze. “I may have lost my temper with Felix. I threatened him, told him to watch out. But I never acted on it, I swear. I was just pissed off.”

Chan swallowed hard. “It’s fine. You were right to be angry.”

Hyunjin nodded, “When I went home that night, there was an email from Felix.” He pulled up the email for Chan.

Chan felt sick, nausea swirling in his gut. 

**Do you want to kill me, Hyunjin? Fuck me first. Paint me with your cum, make me your canvas.**

“F-Felix sent this to you?” Chan’s hand shook, and he let Jeongin take the phone from him. 

Hyunjin began to explain how Felix would email him every night, how the content of the emails grew darker over time. He let Chan take a look at the emails. It was easy to see Felix spiralling as each email got worse. There were hundreds of them.

**Want you to cut my throat open while your cock is inside me. You can paint yourself with my blood. It’ll be such a pretty picture.**

Each email seemed to get more frantic, begging for death.

**Kill me. Take a knife and gut me like an animal. Please please please.**

Hyunjin released his lower lip from between his teeth. “I should’ve reported it. Told someone about it, about him. But we—” he jerked his head towards the man painting in the corner of the room, “Changbin and I laughed it off. We treated it as a joke. I’m so sorry.”

“You should be,” Chan clenched his jaw.

If it was reported, surely someone would’ve done something. Someone would have contacted Chan about it and then he would have… He would have what? Would he have given up the new life he’d begun? Would he have given up Jeongin? He would have, in a heartbeat. 

And it scared him. It was scary that he would choose to go back to Felix’s suffocating embrace. 

“I think I should visit the house today,” Chan said once they were back in the car.

Jeongin looked at him in surprise. “Are you sure? It’s not too much for one day?”

“I’ve been putting it off for too long,” Chan shrugged. He needed to see. He needed to know how Felix had been living.

The lawn was unkempt. Weeds sprouted from between the cobblestones that led to the front porch. The grass brushed their knees as they waded through. 

Jeongin hung back on the porch, and Chan looked at him quizzically. “What’s wrong?”

“It just feels like I’m intruding. I don’t think Felix would want me here.”

And what could Chan say that wasn’t a lie? Jeongin was right. Felix would think of it as a violation. If he’d even known that Chan had been dating Jeongin… He didn’t want to think of what Felix would have done.

“Go ahead,” Jeongin smiled. “Just give me a shout if you need me.”

The door was unlocked and Chan took a deep breath before allowing himself to enter. It had been nearly four years since he’d seen the inside of the house. 

It was worse than outside – much worse. An unbearable odour permeated the air. His sneakers trampled glass as he walked through the living room, stopping to study a pile of metal and plastic. He examined the pieces of a keyboard – the remnants of Felix’s laptop. Nearby a hammer lay discarded. 

One corner of the room smelled strongly of urine and Chan wrinkled his nose. Had Felix really deteriorated to this level? An uneaten sandwich sat on a plate on the coffee table, flies swarming around the protruding slice of ham. 

Chan dreaded what he would find in the kitchen. And for good reason.

The first thing he noticed was the strange drawings on the walls made with a black marker. They were stick figures – the kind of thing a kid would draw. They made no sense to him but they were spread across all four walls.

His gaze shifted to the overflowing pile of dishes on the sink. There were bits and pieces of food left discarded on the counters – a half-eaten apple, bowls of cereal with spoiled milk, a pan still full of eggs, a raw piece of steak on a chopping board, maggots crawling over the flesh.

Felix had lived like this? This was Chan’s fault. He never should have left. How could he have done this to Felix?

Choking on a sob, he stumbled towards the chalkboard. There were three words scrawled on the board:  _ I miss you. _

Chan wanted to tear his heart out of his chest. “I’m sorry,” he gasped through his tears. “Lix, I’m so sorry.”

His fingers shook but he found a crumbling piece of chalk. Not wanting to erase Felix’s words, he wrote:  _ I miss you too. _

He dragged his feet back into the living room where sank down onto his knees in the middle of all the rotting debris.

Here. This was the exact spot where Felix had fell to his knees and begged Chan not to leave. And now Chan was there, bowing his head and begging for forgiveness, “I’m so sorry, Felix,” he sobbed. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Chan sat cross-legged on the floor, his back propped against the bed. He had the knife firmly grasped in his hand. He stared at the jagged edge wondering how it would feel ripping his skin open. 

There was a gasp from the doorway. Jeongin.

“Chan, don’t do this,” Jeongin knelt beside him, his forehead pressed to Chan’s shoulder. “Please.”

He remained silent, eyes fixed on the knife.

“You don’t have to do this,” Jeongin whispered against his skin. “You’re not  _ him _ . Just because he did this, you don’t have to as well.”

In the past six months, this wasn’t the first time that Jeongin had found him in this very position with this very same knife. He fixed Jeongin with a curious stare. “For how long are you going to babysit me?”

Jeongin pursed his lips and studied Chan for a few seconds. “Call it whatever you want to call it. I’m here with you. And if I have to sacrifice sleep to make sure you don’t harm yourself, I will.”

“Why?”

Jeongin sat back, eyes wide. “What do you mean? I love you. And you love me. Isn’t that reason enough for me to be here?”

“I don’t know anymore, Jeongin” Chan admitted, his eyes welling with fresh tears. “What if love isn’t enough? Will you give me your life?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading 💕
> 
> A note on the mental illness tag:  
> Felix displays symptoms of schizophrenia. These include delusions, auditory and visual hallucinations, as well as avolition to a certain extent.  
> He also displays symptoms of depression.
> 
> Twitter   
> CuriousCat


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